The Light In Her Eyes
by ShadowOfApate
Summary: The aftermath of purgatory.
1. Default Chapter

Title: The Light In Her Eyes (a sequel to "Purgatory")   
  
Chapter: One/Two   
  
Pairing: Willow/Buffy, Willow/Tara   
  
Rating: PG-16   
  
Spoilers: Yep, anything is up for grabs.   
  
Timeline: Before Adam   
  
Beta Reader: Scotty ' The fox ' Welles   
  
  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine yet.   
  
  
  
  
  
A Month Later   
  
  
  
  
  
Hands slid over her naked body, tracing each scar, reminding her of   
  
what the month had held for her. A long, thick scar from above her   
  
heart to her womb. Smaller, thin scars covered her chest, arms, and   
  
legs where an overzealous Walsh had taken the great joy of   
  
interrogating her for information. What the older woman wanted to know   
  
was beyond her. She had never said, and she had never asked.   
  
  
  
A long, thin scar covered her C-section, where one of the doctors had   
  
removed her uterus. Population control, making sure that the monster   
  
could never have a child. Her once-smooth back was now a layer of   
  
welts from her first attempt at escape. She'd been dragged into a   
  
closed-off room, that smelled of dried blood and death. The solider   
  
had smirked darkly, sending fear shooting through her   
  
already-unresponsive battered body.   
  
  
  
"It seems someone needs to be taught a lesson," he'd snarled.   
  
  
  
Her right hand still carried the scars from her busting the mirror, and   
  
the tattoo with the number glaring back at her from her left wrist was   
  
a constant reminder she hide with a long, thick leather gauntlet. But   
  
nothing was as bad as her eyes.   
  
  
  
The once-sparkling orbs that had held so much joy were now cold.   
  
Emotionless, from the nightmares of Riley's dead body. Of the memories   
  
of pain and torture that had left her emotionally crippled. Unable to   
  
bring herself to trust anybody. Lifelong friends that had once been   
  
her world were now hard to be around.   
  
  
  
They were the people that had helped save her, but every time she   
  
looked at them, she remembered. They had gone from one extreme to   
  
another. When she'd first gotten out of the hospital, they'd been   
  
overcautious, treating her with kid gloves. Then when she'd exploded   
  
over it, they had gone the other way. Completely ignoring the whole   
  
situation.   
  
  
  
Turning from the image of her body, she pulled on her clothes, another   
  
change she had made. In the last month, she'd started wearing loose   
  
pants and long-sleeved shirts or sweaters, to hide the scars. She   
  
couldn't stand the idea of allowing anyone to see any part of her body.   
  
  
  
  
  
"Hey, you ready to go?"   
  
  
  
She sighed as Buffy entered the room. The Slayer was practically   
  
stalking her. Walking her every place, hovering nearby most of the   
  
time. It was ridiculous. She'd tried to reason with her, but Buffy   
  
had been stubborn on the subject. At one point she'd screamed out that   
  
she'd murdered Buffy's lover, in hopes of driving her away, but the   
  
Slayer had simply said, "Good."   
  
  
  
Tara had been easier. It had taken a week of consistently telling her   
  
that she wanted to break up but the witch had hugged her tightly.   
  
"I'll be here when you change your mind."   
  
  
  
But she wasn't going to change her mind. She was gay, she'd suspected   
  
as much through out high school. Her jealousy over the   
  
Xander-Cordiella thing was more over his getting Cordy than of Cordy   
  
getting Xander. The love she felt for him was real, but now she   
  
recognized it for what it was, as a brother.   
  
  
  
"Willow?"   
  
  
  
She turned her head to the side, getting a glance of Buffy. The worry   
  
lines and black circles under her eyes were still there. She'd first   
  
noticed them the morning she'd woken up in the hospital, to find her   
  
best friend perched in the chair next to the bed. Her body alert, but   
  
dozing. "You don't have to walk with me."   
  
  
  
Buffy's eyes hardened noticeably. "I needed to drop my books off   
  
anyway."   
  
  
  
She snorted softly. Her friend was standing there with nothing in her   
  
arms, and her book bag was across the room on her desk. Who was she   
  
trying to fool? But then again, they were both trying to fool the   
  
other lately.   
  
  
  
"Right." She grabbed the worn black leather jacket from her closet and   
  
pulled it on. Inhaling the scent of old tobacco pipes, and leather.   
  
Her grandfather had left it for her after he'd died, but until recently   
  
she'd never worn it.   
  
  
  
"It's to warm out for that..."   
  
  
  
Buffy trailed off as Willow glared at her friend. She loved the   
  
blonde, but she needed the comfort of the oversized leather jacket. It   
  
made her feel safe, giving her a sense that her grandfather was there,   
  
ready to wrap her in his bulky arms. Cradling her until the nightmares   
  
had left. She could hear his deep, resounding voice, as he spoke of   
  
his time in England. The thick smell of his pipe engulfing her, inside   
  
his study.   
  
  
  
"Wills, I'm worried about you."   
  
  
  
She cocked her head to the side, studying her friend hard. The Slayer   
  
met her eyes steadily, searching for something. Ignoring the scared   
  
child in her, crying out to sink into her friend's arms and let her   
  
protect her, she simply left the room.   
  
  
  
Buffy grabbed her arm, turning her to her. "Willow. You've got to   
  
deal with this."   
  
  
  
Staring into those pleading blue eyes, she spoke softly. "We're going   
  
to be late."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"...we'll need to perform the spell."   
  
  
  
Willow narrowed her eyes as Giles raised his eyebrows in question to   
  
Tara. Another problem she had with them. Now, they turned to Tara for   
  
a lot of the spells they needed. They said it was only until she was   
  
stronger, but she was as strong as she was going to get, and they still   
  
turned to her ex.   
  
  
  
"I'm not powerful enough to do it." Tara smiled over at her. "Willow   
  
can do it, though."   
  
  
  
She nodded in confirmation at Giles' penetrating stare. After a long   
  
moment of tension, he smiled at her. "Very well, if you feel up to   
  
it?"   
  
  
  
"I'm ready," she answered quietly.   
  
  
  
"I don't like it."   
  
  
  
She rolled her eyes as Buffy spoke from her position beside her. She   
  
was going to have to have a talk with the Slayer, and one way or   
  
another she was going to come out the winner in this. "I'm doing it."   
  
  
  
Buffy shook her head, stubborn to the end. "Willow, you've just been   
  
through a traumatic..."   
  
  
  
"A month ago."   
  
  
  
"...experience. One that you haven't dealt with yet, and if you think   
  
I'm just going to stand by and let you..."   
  
  
  
"LET me...?" She realized exactly how dangerous her low, cold-steel   
  
tone must have sounded. The others were watching wide eyed, their   
  
heads going back and forth between them.   
  
  
  
"I just mean that you're my best friend, and I don't want anything to   
  
happen to you."   
  
  
  
"So instead, you're just going to keep me locked away from the world?"   
  
  
  
Their eyes stayed locked on each other, both unwilling to back down.   
  
This had been coming for a while, and now it was too late for them to   
  
turn back.   
  
  
  
"If that's what it takes, then yes."   
  
  
  
"And if you keep treating me like a helpless child, then I will do what   
  
I have to, to stop you."   
  
  
  
"What are you going to do? Turn me into a frog?"   
  
  
  
She saw the trick for what it was, and she wasn't about to back off.   
  
"I mean it, Buffy. If I have to move back in with my parents, then so   
  
be it."   
  
  
  
Buffy's mouth moved a few times. For her to say THAT, it would have to   
  
be drastic. Her parents were on the verge of disowning her over the   
  
gay thing. "You wouldn't."   
  
  
  
Willow simply sat back and took a long drink from her espresso.   
  
Ignoring the Slayer that limply collapsed back into her chair, the   
  
seriousness of it hitting her.   
  
  
  
"Fine. I'll back off." Buffy swallowed under her glare. "I promise."   
  
  
  
  
  
Satisfied for the time being, she turned back to Giles. "Now, what's   
  
the spell?"   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
She walked along the path, enjoying the feeling of being truly alone.   
  
She'd made sure that Buffy had been distracted when she'd left the   
  
Magic Box. The night air caressed her sore body, drifting her mind   
  
into a familiar daydream, where everything was back to the way it used   
  
to be. No Initiative, no demons, no Slayer. The only problems she had   
  
were dealing with Cordy and her clones.   
  
  
  
A flicker of red light split through the shadows from the dorms. She   
  
sighed and paused on the path, her eyes focusing on the full moon.   
  
"Checking on me too? Or you just out looking for a midnight snack?   
  
Oops, I forgot, you can't."   
  
  
  
A snort of laughter with a British accent reached her ears. "Actually,   
  
Red, I was looking for you."   
  
  
  
"Oh?"   
  
  
  
"I figured we had something in common now."   
  
  
  
She ran a shaking hand through her short red hair, knowing what he   
  
meant. "A weakness for blonde women with great bodies?"   
  
  
  
"All right, two things in common." He sighed heavily, like a man   
  
bearing a great burden. "I never though I'd escape those butchers.   
  
Hell, they could teach Angelus a few things."   
  
  
  
"You know what hurt the worst?" she asked softly. "The first day they   
  
tattooed a number on my arm. My great aunt used to talk about the   
  
holocaust, the only one of her five sisters to survive."   
  
  
  
"I remember it. Me and Dru were there." He snorted in disgust.   
  
"Hell, they even tried to take her. Taught those bastards a lesson   
  
they never forgot."   
  
  
  
"I would've liked to seen that." She smiled sadly as she stared down   
  
at the leather gauntlet hiding the tattoo.   
  
  
  
"Yeah, well at least we won't have to worry about that commando wannabe   
  
anymore."   
  
  
  
"Riley?"   
  
  
  
"Is that farm boy's name?"   
  
  
  
She shuddered, remembering the sound of the gunshot. The tinge of   
  
smoke filtering her nose as his body fell lifeless to the floor. "I   
  
murdered him."   
  
  
  
"You defended yourself. Besides, a little blood does a person good.   
  
The thrill of the kill..." He trailed off, pushing himself off the   
  
wall so she could see him. "That's what's bothering you. You feel   
  
guilty because you don't feel guilty."   
  
  
  
She turned away from him, rubbing her arms suddenly cold. "I hated   
  
him. He...he cold-bloodedly captured me, then stood by while they...I   
  
wanted to kill him. I wanted to see him in pain. I wanted..."   
  
  
  
"You wanted to see his blood." He flicked his cigarette away. "I hate   
  
to say it, but what you did was self-defense."   
  
  
  
"But..."   
  
  
  
"It doesn't matter what you felt or thought. He had a gun on you, one   
  
he would've used if you hadn't fired first. It was justified."   
  
  
  
The heaviness lifted from her chest. The assurance coming from someone   
  
who knew death so intimately was more real than having someone like   
  
Xander say it. Pulling the lean man into her arms, she pecked him on   
  
his cheek. "Thank you."   
  
  
  
He dropped his head bashfully, watching her walk away. "You can come   
  
out now."   
  
  
  
Buffy left the shadows of the trees. "I owe you one."   
  
  
  
He smirked at her and winked. "That kiss more than made up for it.   
  
Quite a catch, that one."   
  
  
  
She glared after his retreating form, annoyed by the jolly tune he was   
  
whistling. In the back of her mind, she wondered why it bothered her   
  
so much that her friend had kissed him. 


	2. Chapter Two

Title: The Light In Her Eyes (a sequel to "Purgatory")   
  
Chapter: Two/Two   
  
Rating: PG-16   
  
Pairing: Willow/Buffy   
  
Spoilers: Yep, anything is up for grabs   
  
Timeline: Before Adam   
  
Beta Reader: Scotty ' Hot Lips ' Welles   
  
  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine....yet   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The hollowed-out halls of the compound were burnt, scorched beyond   
  
recognition. With silent steps, she entered what was left of the main   
  
office. The computers lay scattered across what was left of the tiled   
  
floor, smashed into thousands of pieces. The carved wooden desk was   
  
splintered and cracked. The filing cabinets were bent and ash-stained.   
  
  
  
  
  
Making her way to the cabinet that the torn cards read Hostiles 60-70,   
  
she braced her foot against the wall and yanked hard. Her muscles   
  
strained impossibly, the veins in her neck appearing against her pale   
  
skin. The drawer let out a long, metallic groan as it gave way.   
  
  
  
She nervously shifted through the torn files, until she found the file   
  
for Hostile 63. She flinched at the idea of being reduced to a number.   
  
A tired sigh left her lips as she opened the dreaded thing, her eyes   
  
scanning the neat computer printouts. Results of tests, findings of   
  
her DNA compared to that of a normal human's.   
  
  
  
Tucking the file into her backpack, she began to walk around the   
  
compound. Just looking, remembering, and dealing with the ghosts that   
  
she felt in every room that she entered. 'Goddess, would they have   
  
gone after Buffy next?'   
  
  
  
She sighed at the thought of her blonde friend. When she got back she   
  
was going to be in for it, using a sleeping spell on a Slayer was not a   
  
good idea, but then again nothing seemed like a good idea to her   
  
anymore.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Right, left, right, left, turn.   
  
  
  
Where the hell was she? She glared for the hundredth time at the door,   
  
expecting it to open anytime now. She was furious...no, she was beyond   
  
furious. She was on the verge of white-hot, boiling rage. Her   
  
muscles, tensed to the point of pain, were wound up so tight she was   
  
ready to spring.   
  
  
  
That...that...errrr. Willow, her Willow, her best friend and   
  
confidant. The one person in this entire world that she depended on   
  
and trusted without any doubt had used some sort of sleeping spell on   
  
her. She'd woken up, half off her bed at 1:02 A.M. to find her gone.   
  
  
  
So what if she swore she'd stop following her around like an   
  
over-anxious puppy dog? So what if she had no intention to keep her   
  
promise? So what if she had bribed Spike into talking to her? Or that   
  
she hadn't left her friend alone for long since they'd rescued her?   
  
  
  
Left, right, left, right, left...turn.   
  
  
  
She had absolutely, positively, no right to do that. Damn her anyway.   
  
What the hell did she think she was doing running off alone in the   
  
middle of the night? In Sunnydale, no less. There were all kinds of   
  
bad, fanged evil things out there, just waiting for someone to snack   
  
on.   
  
  
  
Just because she was a witch didn't mean she was invincible. Did she   
  
honestly believe that her abilities would get her out of any situation?   
  
It didn't stop that bastard Riley, did it? No. In fact it was her   
  
stupid powers' fault that she got caught in the first place. After   
  
all, if she hadn't been playing around with magic then the Initiative   
  
wouldn't have wanted her, now would they?   
  
  
  
Then again, if she didn't dabble in magic, Angel would be soulless, and   
  
they would've ended up dead -- or worse -- on a number of occasions.   
  
Damn.   
  
  
  
Right, left, right, left, right, turn.   
  
  
  
Hostile 63. How could anybody believe that sweet innocent Willow was   
  
hostile? Okay, so the redhead wasn't all that innocent, but she was   
  
sweet, and self-sacrificing. Hostile 63. Did they really believe that   
  
someone like Willow could be a demon? How could they even think that?   
  
If they weren't already dead she would... No, let's not go there.   
  
  
  
Left, right, left, right, left, and turn.   
  
  
  
She growled angrily and scowled at the door.   
  
  
  
Where the hell could she have gone? She'd spent the last two hours   
  
searching every cemetery in Sunnydale. Finally, coming back here   
  
thinking that she'd come back already. But was she? No. Why did she   
  
have to be so damned stubborn?   
  
  
  
Couldn't she see what her pain was doing to her? The silence that met   
  
her everyday, the cold, measured eyes that used to hold so much life   
  
and love. Why couldn't she understand what it was like for her?   
  
  
  
She spun around, mid-pace, and stared at the redhead trying to slip   
  
softly into the dorm room. Her anger and worry evaporated into relief.   
  
Immediately, she grabbed the young wiccan and searched her thoroughly   
  
for any signs of injury, pain, bruises, bumps, poison oak, rheumatism.   
  
  
  
  
  
"Stop that."   
  
  
  
She pushed her friend onto her bed, sitting next to her, still   
  
searching her for...something. "Where have you been? Do you have any   
  
idea how worried I've been? What the hell were you thinking using a   
  
spell on me? What if I was needed and hadn't woken up? Are you   
  
okay...?"   
  
  
  
"The compound, yes, I had no choice, you would have, and yes. Does   
  
that cover everything or do you want to take my vital signs too?"   
  
  
  
For a brief instant, she was tempted to do just that, maybe throw in a   
  
complete physical to be safe. But from the look of Willow's face she   
  
didn't think she'd appreciate the gesture too much. Still...   
  
  
  
The redhead got up and grabbed her pajamas, heading for the door and   
  
most likely to the dorm floor's shower.   
  
  
  
Her mind wrapped around the girl's answers, coming back to one thing.   
  
"Just what were you doing at the compound?"   
  
  
  
A frustrated sigh left the witch as she turned sharp, cold eyes on her.   
  
"I was necking with Dru."   
  
  
  
She held back the instinct that was telling...that was demanding she   
  
check Willow's neck again. Instead she focused on her anger. "That   
  
isn't funny. You could've been..."   
  
  
  
"What? Hurt, maybe tortured or experimented on?" Willow's raw   
  
emotions hit her hard. "Been there, done that, bored now."   
  
  
  
She winced as the dorm room door slammed shut behind the retreating   
  
witch. "Oh god, it must be bad, for her to be channeling evil Willow."   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The scalding hot water poured down her red skin. She shuddered   
  
slightly, feeling an onset of goose bumps sending waves of chills   
  
throughout her body. Numbly, she turned the water even hotter,   
  
pressing her hands hard against the horrid colored tile wall.   
  
  
  
Her head was bowed so the water would run over her, engulfing her in   
  
waterfall. The chills gradually left, warming her cold body, but   
  
leaving the deep chill in her bones untouched. She closed her eyes so   
  
she wouldn't have to see her own body, yet behind her lids she could   
  
still see it.   
  
  
  
Raw pain tore at her as her tears mingled with the water flowing around   
  
her. The nightmares never seemed to stop for her, day or night, awake   
  
or sleeping, they were there haunting her, reminding her, demanding her   
  
attention.   
  
  
  
Blame was there, every time she saw her friends, especially Buffy. She   
  
brought that bastard into their circle, she insisted that he could be   
  
trusted, and the others had accepted that. No background checks, no   
  
doubts, no questions. Just accept and move on.   
  
  
  
"Willow? I'm sorry I was angry before." The voice came from just   
  
outside the shower, trying to be soft and tender and yet still be heard   
  
above the spraying water.   
  
  
  
Rage grabbed her heart, telling her not to trust this woman she once   
  
called her friend. The reluctant hand that touched her shoulder caused   
  
something to snap inside herself.   
  
  
  
The voice came closer as Buffy ventured inside. "I just want to make   
  
sure you're all ri--"   
  
  
  
Spinning to the concerned Slayer she grabbed her and slammed her into   
  
the wall. "No, I'm NOT ALL RIGHT! Because of YOU!!"   
  
  
  
The blonde's thin workout clothes were quickly soaked through as her   
  
eyes widened, but she made no move to break free.   
  
  
  
"You brought him to us!" Willow screamed at her, "You led him right to   
  
me! I trusted you, I loved you, and you fed me to them!!" She wanted   
  
to jerk the Slayer away from the wall and smash her back into it, or   
  
through it, but her strength failed her as the trembling began.   
  
  
  
"I know, and I'm so sorry," came the quiet reply, Buffy's voice also   
  
trembling. "I'd do anything to make it better, I'd rip my own heart   
  
out if it could undo what's happened to you, I swear." Her body   
  
language declared that she'd accept any abuse Willow could heap on her   
  
in penitence.   
  
  
  
Looking into those eyes that seemed to mirror her own soul, Willow felt   
  
the barriers within herself crack, like the mirror she'd punched her   
  
way through to freedom, then crumble and shatter. She let out a moan   
  
of deep-seated pain and horror and collapsed, sobbing against her   
  
friend.   
  
  
  
Buffy held the naked young woman close against herself, trying to   
  
shield her, shelter and comfort her. Wanting to hold the torn and   
  
ravaged body and spirit together, erasing the scars and wounds no   
  
matter how deep they ran. They sank to the shower floor together,   
  
coiled together like twins in the womb.   
  
  
  
The sobs and wails seemed to go on forever, long after the hot water   
  
ran out, but neither one moved. When they finally subsided, Buffy   
  
could feel the guarded tension finally abate in her friend's body.   
  
  
  
"I'm here, Wills," she whispered. "You're my best friend and I love   
  
you. Please, please let me in, let me help you..."   
  
  
  
Willow's eyes rose, met hers. Like a break in the storm clouds, she   
  
could see through the rage and hurt to the beautiful spirit she knew   
  
and loved. Like the sun's rays, there was a first glimmer of the light   
  
returning. The light in her eyes.   
  
  
  
"I need you," the young witch whispered, pulling her closer. Buffy   
  
tightened her grip, ready to give whatever Willow needed, be whatever   
  
she needed.   
  
  
  
Her demanding lips covered her friend's willing body, blending together   
  
in a desperate attempt to exorcise her demons.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
She pulled the unhealthily thin redhead tighter against her, burying   
  
her face into the back of her neck. It hadn't been a lot, but the   
  
simple smile Willow had given her had made her heart soar. It was more   
  
of a start than she could've asked for.   
  
  
  
She suddenly knew that everything would be okay. It would just take   
  
time and patience.   
  
  
  
Something she was willing to find for her friend and lover. 


End file.
